Rhinestone Way

by Addison Creek

  She hastened to add that we didn’t have to worry too much about their well-being. They were virtually indestructible anyhow. Once my cauldron was meticulously cleaned—with witch hazel, of all things—I dragged it out to the pasture while Bethel watched in bemusement. I had the distinct impression that there was an easier way of moving it, but I hadn’t figure it out yet.

  When I had come home that day, my purple crystal ball had been sitting in a corner of my room. Bethel must have approved the use of that as well, since she had turned it over to me.

  We ate dinner quickly. Even Bethel seemed excited about the evening ahead. I felt guilty for not doing more snooping that day, then reminded myself that the hours of the day were finite.

  As Lowe and I were cleaning up the kitchen there was a knock at the door. “More guests?” Lowe asked Bethel.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” said our grandmother, already disappearing down the hall.

  Lowe handed me another plate and I started to wash it. Spunk was sitting on the windowsill in front of me and appeared to be laughing at the menial labor we had to do.

  Bethel came back into the kitchen a few moments later. “I was expecting this. It’s actually a little later than usual, but August is a quiet month. Jade, there’s a note for you.” She handed me a folded piece of paper

  I rinsed off my hands, took the note, and opened it. There wasn’t much there, and I nearly crumpled it up and threw it into the fire. Then I thought I’d better not. What it said was:

  You are cordially requested to present yourself at the dance hall tomorrow morning at nine for the Young Witches Coven Council Meeting. Please come prepared with ideas for improvement. We will also be doing our first ritual together.

  Yours, Hannah Carlyle.

  I read it out loud to my family, and Lowe rolled her eyes. “Is she already in charge of that?”

  “It sure sounds like it. Her mother probably gave her the opportunity without offering it to anyone else,” said Bethel.

  “So now I have to do that in the morning. To think I thought I was rid of Hannah and Taylor.”

  “You will never be rid of them, and it’s a good thing. Someone has to act as a counterweight to their ridiculous notions,” said Bethel. “Now, put that card down. You know where and you know when. We have a lot to do tonight.” Without another word she headed for the field.

  “What about your cauldron?” I called out to her.

  “It’s already out there. The ingredients should be in the storeroom,” said Bethel over her shoulder.

  I rolled my eyes. So she did have a way to move cauldrons that she hadn’t told me about. She probably thought suffering would build character. Well, fine. It also built resentment.

  Bethel kept her stores in the unicorn dung hut. You would think the house was safer, but in fact it wasn’t.

  “The safest place in town is probably this hut. Even the queens know it,” said Bethel proudly. “Nothing is going to get through those unicorns.”

  Whenever Bethel ventured into the pasture, several unicorns broke away from whatever they were doing to come and greet her. Whenever I entered the pasture they did their best to chase me away. Since I was with Bethel this time, they left me alone. Their only acknowledgement that I existed was a few derisive snorts.

  In one corner of the pasture were two cauldrons with a small table sitting between them, plus Lowe had dragged a chair out to sit on. She was going to be our note taker, and she couldn’t have been more excited about it.

  “I have a collection of new notebooks in my room. I pulled this one out specially,” she explained, grinning and holding up a rainbow-colored notebook. She also had a special pen. I remembered that Bethel had given me a pen that had belonged to my mother, who had also liked to write. Maybe a love of notebooks ran in the family.

  Bethel disappeared into her storeroom for more ingredients.

  I decided that Bethel must keep her cauldron in her room, because I had never seen it before. It had a white band around the top and a thick black belly. A very pretty cauldron, it also had a number of designs on it that probably meant something, but I didn’t know what.

  Bethel didn’t take long in the storeroom. She emerged with half of a cardboard box and set it on the table between us. “Do you have the packets?” she asked me.

  When I produced the three packets from my pocket she said, “We can only do two tonight. Do you have a preference?” she asked.

  I blinked at her.

  “You’re running this show, remember?” said Bethel.

  “We shouldn’t worry about the dungs,” I said. “We know where that’s from and we know it wasn’t part of the trade.”

  “The dung will form a component of the Michael feather ingredient set. We will enhance the potion that way. The others should be fine without it,” said Bethel.

  “Then let’s wait and do the pearls later,” I said. “I’d like to do both feather potions together, so we can compare differences. That way we might learn something more quickly.” I remembered Quinn saying something about orange smoke in the woods. If either of these potions fizzed orange, that might give us the first clue that we were on the right track.

  “Very well,” said Bethel. She held out her hand and waited for me to hand her a packet. I gave her the ingredients that went with Michael’s feather. To me that was the most important thing. Michael would be a formidable opponent should he be siding with the Vixens. Something told me he wasn’t, but we still needed to know. Just because he wasn’t on their side didn’t mean his feathers couldn’t have ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I took the packet that went with Kelly’s feathers, which I placed on the table between us after carefully unwrapping the contents of the handkerchief I had preserved them in.

  Bethel did the same with her packet, working more quickly than I did. After reading the directions on the packet, I fiddled with the temperature of my cauldron for a long time. Bethel was already filling hers and waiting for it to boil.

  I started to look at my ingredients nervously, but I was even more worried about what Bethel was doing as she moved around so efficiently.

  Finally she noticed and said, “Just pay attention to your own cauldron and you’ll be fine.”

  I sighed and tried to focus on my work. Lowe was already writing furious notes, probably recording every single detail of what she was seeing. She kept hopping off her chair and coming to peer into each cauldron. She had also produced a stopwatch from some pocket and kept jotting down times and durations.

  The plain feathers Kelly had given me were the basis of this particular potion, so they went in first. The packet quickly followed. After that were a few other ingredients that Bethel had produced from her stores, including acorns, a particular favorite of hers.

  Bethel had also found me a ladle for stirring, which was fraught with danger because stirring changed the heat of a particular potion. Bethel advised me to go slow and be careful.

  I was so preoccupied that it took me nearly an hour (I know how long it was because Lowe kept calling time) to note that we were developing an audience.

  There were more cats in the field than usual. They were perching all around us, many using the backs of unicorns as resting spots.

  “Just a few more minutes until yours is done,” said Bethel, peering over my shoulder.

  My potion had taken on a sort of purple color, and it kept belching. But the puffs of air the potion sent upwards were nothing like the color of the potion itself; the clouds were more pink than purple. Also, they smelled like lilacs. I was grateful that if nothing else, my potion didn’t smell bad.

  “Is this something special or new?” I asked Bethel.

  “No, not really. It’s easy enough to do, mostly aboveboard, I’d say. I’m a bit impressed by how quickly the potion is congealing, though. That’s probably a testament to Bara’s lab.”

  Lowe and I exchanged impressed looks at the implication that Bethel was on a first-name basis wit
h the renowned professor, though on reflection I realized that we should have expected it. Professor Burger would want to have good relationships with suppliers, and Bethel had a monopoly on one of the most precious potion ingredients.

  “How is yours coming along?” I asked. Dusk was falling and the wind had picked up a bit. I was starting to feel chilly and was debating going inside for a hoodie or a hot cup of tea.

  “It won’t finish until there’s a shooting star,” said Bethel, squinting upwards. “We’ll have to wait a bit yet. We can go in and come back out at bedtime. We just need yours to finish before we can go inside.”

  “A shooting star is an ingredient?” Lowe asked, incredulous.

  “Of course it is,” scoffed Bethel.

  All three of us now gathered around my cauldron. The bubbling had increased, and there was a steady stream of pink exploding into the air. The colored steam felt hot on my face.

  Hopefully it would cause no adverse effects, because we were almost bathing in it at this point.

  “I think it’s finished! Turn off the flame,” said Bethel.

  I quickly did as she directed. The steam had become so thick that I couldn’t even see through it. All three of us backed away.

  “Color, good, thickness good,” said Lowe, taking notes. She checked the stopwatch. “Finished just on time. These are all good signs.”

  “It has stayed pink and not orange, though,” I added.

  “This wasn’t supposed to be dangerous to begin with. Maybe Kyle wasn’t trading in his own feathers, maybe he was just trading in pearls. We can try those tomorrow,” said Lowe.

  “We don’t have Kyle’s pearls,” I said.

  Then I realized my mistake. Bethel had gone over to pet the unicorns, and I wasn’t sure if she was still in earshot.

  Would she ask where the pearls had come from? I did wish I had some of the ones that Henry had traded.

  It didn’t appear as if my grandmother had heard me, but now she turned to us and said, “Let’s go in. We can check Michael’s feather packet later.” She was already heading for the house as she spoke.

  Chapter Nineteen

  While I waited for Bethel’s potion to finish that night, I nearly fell asleep, lying in bed with a book on my chest. The room still smelled like roses, and the more time I spent in it, the more I liked the blue with yellow accents. Right before I was about to doze off, Bethel came to get me. “The potion is done.” I glanced out the window. The sky was filled with an orange smoke.

  Suddenly wide awake, I pelted downstairs. This was the color Quinn had described seeing in the woods! It had to be an important sign, even if these feathers were used for protection. Had Michael lied to us? Was Professor Burger a good suspect after all?

  “Don’t get too excited,” Bethel cautioned as I stuffed my feet into the shoes I’d left sitting by the back door.

  “Why not? It’s the same color!” I said.

  “That could be a coincidence. There are a lot fewer colors than there are potions. Some have to share,” she explained.

  I knew she was right, but I still wanted to hope that this was a clue, even though I didn’t really want Michael to be involved. I had liked him and wanted him to be on our side, or at least his own side. I definitely didn’t want such an impressive owl feather trader to be on the side of the Vixens.

  We made our way into the field. When we reached the corner where the cauldrons sat, Bethel shut off the fire under hers and examined her potion. “This is perfect. A very difficult potion. Again, the exact ingredients are crucial.”

  Lowe and I peered into the cauldron and saw that the only thing left was a tiny drop at the bottom. The color was bright blue. With care, Bethel produced a jar and handed it to me. “Now scoop it out. You can take the jar to Bara and see what she thinks.”

  My arm could feel the heat coming off the cauldron as I stuck my hand inside to follow Bethel’s instructions.

  The next morning I woke up bright and early and ate breakfast quickly. Lowe didn’t have attend any silly meetings, so she was still asleep. Bethel had already headed out to the pasture to tend to the unicorns.

  Now we had to find time to return to the lab, but in department of everything getting more complicated I still had to attend the Young Witches meeting before I could do anything else that day.

  The fun never really ended here in Twinkleford. Somehow I had thought that once I became a witch I would see less of Hannah. That was kind of true, since I wasn’t seeing her every day, but if she ran the Young Witches group, and I was expected to participate, I couldn’t get away from her entirely.

  I headed out, caught the trolley, and arrived at the dance hall right on time, the first time I’d returned there since Nancy’s arrest. The day was crisp and cool, with mist swirling around me and the first hints of fall in the air, quite a different feel from the days when I’d come here for debutant classes,

  “Hey,” said Kelly. She and Jackie were talking in the entrance, standing next to the crystal balls. I had coveted those crystal balls when I’d first arrived in town, and now I knew that of the three witch disciplines we had learned, my best realm was crystal ball reading. That probably explained the way I’d reacted before I knew a thing about being a witch.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “How are you?” Kelly asked.

  “Good. We did some experiments last night with ingredients that Professor Burger gave us,” I said.

  Kelly brightened. “Anything?”

  “Maybe, we’re not sure yet,” I said. “What about you?”

  She nodded. “My brother told me what he knew. He just swore me to secrecy.”

  “I can’t hear any of this. I work in an official capacity. Find me when you’re finished,” said Jackie. We watched her wander off and then kept bringing each other up to date.

  “Lowe is going to meet us for lunch at Robin’s,” I told Kelly. “We can talk there after this fun-filled morning.”

  She nodded. We knew better than to try and talk here. Even if you couldn’t see Hannah and Taylor, their presence was definitely felt. I was having chills already.

  The red doors to the dance hall were open and Kelly and I headed that way. For some reason I was expecting to see just the witches who had graduated with us, but this time there was a much bigger crowd.

  Young Witches apparently meant anyone who had graduated in the past ten years. There were about thirty young witches in the room. Some debutante classes were smaller than others, of course, and there had to be at least a few witches who had simply chosen not to show up.

  Most of the faces I had seen around town in the past few months, but a few were new. One in particular stood out, a witch I had seen at the ritual. She had jet black hair and a tattoo winding up her forearm, which I had a feeling her mother wouldn’t like. Bethel would certainly be furious if I ever did such a thing.

  So far there was no sign of Hannah and Taylor. I was grateful for few more moments of reprieve, but on the other hand I was eager to get the ordeal over with.

  Kelly and I went to join Jackie, who was helping a few other witches set up chairs for the crowd. My friends and I sat down to wait while other witches wandered in. There was still no sign of Taylor or Hannah.

  After a few minutes of light chat, I heard the unmistakable noise of high heels from outside the hall. At the next instant, both red doors opened and Hannah Carlisle and Taylor Newtonville strutted in. They had never looked so blissfully smug as they did at this moment. I was utterly positive that I could never dislike them any more than I did right now.

  Something had changed with both of them since I had last seen them. They looked even more polished, more put together, and more full of themselves than they had while we were doing debutant classes together. They were both wearing pencil skirts, Taylor’s a bright red and Hannah’s yellow. They had both chosen white tops to go with the colorful skirts. It was very close to a uniform.

  The other thirty or so waiting witches watched them come in s
ilence.

  Holding a black clipboard and a pen and looking as official as she possibly could, Hannah came to a stop in front of the seats and smiled at us all. Taylor went to stand nearby and stared at the floor. One of the witches jumped out of her chair to get another one for Taylor. She was obviously not going to get one for herself, but when one was provided, she sat down in one smooth motion and made a show of opening the leather bound notebook she was carrying.

  Hannah glanced around the room. Her nose went an inch higher in the air. “I so appreciate all of you attending the first Young Witches meeting of the year. It is here that we will make decisions for ourselves and for the direction of the club. As its leader, I will be in charge,” she said.

  Jackie raised her hand. Hannah blinked at her several times, then said, “What is it?”

  “Who made you in charge?” Jackie asked.

  “Does that matter?” Hannah asked.

  “Definitely,” Jackie confirmed.

  The other witches were watching with interest. Jackie was no shrinking violet. Though her mother was the mayor, Jackie still had less standing than the likes of Hannah, but she still wasn’t going to let herself get railroaded into anything by a self-appointed superior witch.

  “The queen witches decided that I was the very best choice to lead. As someone with the best score through our debutant training, I was the natural choice,” she said.

  Taylor gave a little cough. “Taylor had the second-best score, so she is naturally my second.”

  Jackie glanced at Kelly and me. “There were no scores issued.”

  Before Hannah could reply, a woman who looked a couple of years older than I was asked, “Also, if there were scores issued, then someone got a best score from each year. Shouldn’t we all be considered together?”